Fascination
by rinalii
Summary: Jill gets a rather... unusual visitor on a late night. But why? "It just adds to the mystery, doesn't it?" SkyexJill.


_**Author's Notes: **__Bleh, I absolutely detest writing in the first person. So this may be my first (and last) Harvest Moon fic you'll see in this style._

_I wrote this story back when I was an avid JillxSkye fan. (I'm not really into the pairing all that much now.) I felt too attached to get rid of it, so I decided to post it somewhere. Marked as **Complete**, though I don't really like how I sloppily ended things. So I wouldn't rule out the possibility that this could end as a multi-chap/two-shot, maybe when motivation/inspiration strikes me._

**Disclaimer:**_ I don't own anything._

* * *

><p><strong>Fascination<strong>

"C'mon, I have to go to sleep! Please, Bessie! Please, just get inside!"

Bessie moo-ed stubbornly in response and moved further away from the barn, refusing to take shelter. Much to my annoyance, it was already past midnight. To make matters even more frustrating, I was absolutely drained from all the farm work I did throughout the day.

It would have been easy to just leave Bessie alone in the field. Just let her do whatever the heck she wanted. But my conscience wouldn't allow me to. Armed with the thought that the weather forecast could be wrong- well- it hardly ever was... but the slight possibility was still there. And the kind of guilt you feel where you know you could have done something but didn't, was the worst kind of guilt. At least, I that's what I thought.

"WHY? Why won't you go in?" I shrugged, and tried to ring the bell once more.

Bessie didn't seem to notice my existence as she resumed peacefully munching on a mouthful of grass. I would have been asleep by now, had Bessie decided not to let her hunger overcome her. Tch, talk about selfish and ungrateful. I never forget to feed and milk her every day, and THIS is the thanks I get?

"Oh fine," I said with a teasing smirk. "Just don't blame me if a hurricane or tornado passes by."

For a very brief moment, I smiled victoriously, thinking it had worked because Bessie had finally looked me in the eye and paid full attention. But my hopes were shattered almost immediately as soon as Bessie went back to grazing in a matter of seconds.

"Oh, Bessie-! C'MON!" I sighed exasperatedly. "Well, I guess we're going to have to do this the hard way."

I placed my hands onto her back. (And maaan, she was huge.) Then, I moved my feet a few inches back, and began to exert what little upper body strength I had to push Bessie back inside the animal barn. She was going to go in, whether she liked it or not.

"Nnngh-!" I struggled. "Ugh... Bessie... why are you... so heavy-?"

It probably wasn't the smartest thing to say, considering what happened next.

"MOOOO!" Bessie wailed.

Before I knew it, I was sent flying backwards. "Agh-!" Damn, Bessie sure knew how to kick a girl where it really hurt. After that, I nursed my back, a little thankful that a cherry tree had been kind enough to catch me. It hurt like hell still, but it could have been a lot worse.

Then, a condescending laugh echoed from beneath the shadows. The voice sounded rather flamboyant and masculine. "Hehehehe, my my."

My eyebrows raised in alarm as I reached out for my hammer, ignoring the aching sensation on my lower back. After all, it was no time to recuperate when there could be a potential stalker or rapist nearby. Stalker? Rapist? Sheesh, I just realised how condescending that made me sound. I doubt a lowly farmer would have an encounter with those kind of criminals. It was probably just some no-good thief. "Who's there?"

The response was a low chuckle. "Heh. You look like you could use some assistance, my dear."

What a sadistic psycho. Did he enjoy watching me struggle? The very thought was unsettling. If he knew I was in trouble, why didn't he help? No, actually, scratch that. I was actually quite relieved that he didn't. It was quite easy to tell that this guy wasn't normal, possibly not sane either. Call it a woman's intuition. Besides, I'd rather not know what kind of 'help' this guy had to offer. As they say, ignorance is bliss after all.

I looked around every corner, trying to determine where the source of the voice came from. In the process, I tried to think of something smart or sarcastic to say, but nothing came out. But even so, I was determined not to let him have the last word.

"My my, how scary! Such a fierce glare!" I didn't miss the hint of mockery in his voice, as the grip on my hammer tightened. "It doesn't suit such a lovely face."

The unsettling feeling in the pit of my stomach had soon turned into a tiny spark of anger. "Are you mocking me?"

"Oooh, feisty. I like that."

I chose to ignore the infuriatingly patronizing comment, realising that I was reacting exactly how he wanted. But I wasn't naive enough to fall for his tricks. Then again, I didn't feel like beating around the bush. So I decided to ask him directly: "So... who or what are you? And what do you want?"

"You're asking me 'what' I am? Should I be offended?" He paused to let out a laugh. "Around here, I'm well known as a Phantom. Or did you mean my occupation? If you are looking for the technical term, I believe 'thief' or 'rogue' should suffice."

I let out a derisive snort. What kind of idiot goes around announcing his crimes to a complete stranger (and possibly everyone else, if he was really THAT stupid)? He was lying obviously. But then again, I would have to be a fool to believe in anything this creeper had to say.

He seemed smart enough to catch on. So I decided to humour him a little bit. "And what would a thief want with me? If you're looking for something valuable to sell, I'm afraid you'll be very disappointed. There's nothing but low-value crops here."

"Hehehe, don't worry. I have no intention of causing harm upon you, maiden."

So what DID he want? Mind-games? Because I wasn't in the mood. I was feeling very tired and a little restless, and I'd rather get some rest instead of arguing back and forth with a coward who would rather stay hidden underneath the shadows.

"I don't have time for this," I announced. "So get to the point. Just tell me what you want, so I can go."

The voice let out a hearty chuckle. "Eager to get rid of me, are we?"

"What can I say? I don't like to waste my time."

"Hehehe. Even so, what would be the purpose? Would you actually believe a word I say?"

"Hmm... good point."

Silence echoed, before I released an agitated sigh. It's not like I was at a disadvantage. Even if he was lying (which he most likely was), I've still got my hammer to bash his skull with. "Fine. Let's hear it."

"You can rest easy, maiden. For I did not come here to steal anything."

I visibly cringe, discomfort rising. What was with this 'maiden' business? What if this guy really was a rapist? Not that I was dumb enough to ask that out loud, just in case he really was. Instead, I go with the more obvious question. "And _why_ should I trust you?"

"Trust me?" the voice mused, as if I had just said a bad joke. "Hmhmhm, that's really up to you, isn't it? I am merely giving you an answer. Truth or not? I'll let you decide. It just adds to the mystery, doesn't it?"

Fear and panic rose once more. Hmm, I shouldn't be too pessimistic. He could have easily been a deluded mystery novel fan with the strong belief that he really was a thief. Yeah, keep telling yourself that Jill. It might just come true. But then again - I hear him chuckle - maybe not. "Then what DO you want?"

"Nothing in particular really. Curiosity, perhaps," he said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I heard the most delightful sound of your voice when I happened to walk by. That's all"

'HAPPENED to walk by'? What kind of a lame excuse was that? And how in the world was a high-pitched squeak 'most delightful'? Oh, this guy was definitely sadistic alright. Breathe, stay calm, breathe. Put on your best not-afraid face, Jill! Don't let this freak disturb you!

"If that's all," I say monotonously as I could."Do you think you could maybe, you know, run along and do whatever it is that you do?"

He guffawed. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

"And why not?"

"Because," I hear the smile in his voice. "It would be awfully rude of me to leave without asking a lady for her name first."

I blink once with perplexity. Whaaaaat. I just didn't understand this guy at all! First, he thinks it's a perfectly good idea to creep up on me from somewhere I can't see him. Then he reverts and acts like some fake gentleman. What was with this guy? Was he supposed to be some kind of Rock clone? The kind that flirts with anything that moves? Trying out the most impossible and scary ways to catch a woman's heart? As if ANYONE would be stupid enough to fall for it.

"It's not rude if the lady doesn't _want_ to tell you her name, trust me."

"Ah," He didn't sound phased, thank god. "I must have offended you, haven't I?"

Well, duh. Though 'offended' isn't exactly how _I_ would put it, Creepy Creeperson.

"Oh dear, I'm afraid I don't seem to be very good with first impressions," he started to mumble. "So what if we start over? Surely, a name wouldn't be too personal to share, lady?"

Pfft, this guy was absolutely impossible. By the time I stopped caring, I try pushing Bessie back inside the barn once more. It was better than having to converse with an utter moron.

"This conversation is _over_."

"So that's it?" He sounded disappointed, not that I care. "Not even a name?"

I flick my ponytail to the side with a hint of smugness. "Just adds to the mystery, doesn't it?"


End file.
